


what you lose, what you gain

by Blueberries (Blueberries_Pen)



Series: NonconWhumpKinktober 2020 [19]
Category: DCU
Genre: Grief, Hate Sex, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Mindbreak, Mirror Sex, Noncontober 2020, That's not how you deal with grief Slade, Trans Dick Grayson, Whumptober 2020, mourning loved one, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberries_Pen/pseuds/Blueberries
Summary: Grant is dead.Someone needs to pay. Someone has to suffer.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Series: NonconWhumpKinktober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947430
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	what you lose, what you gain

**Author's Note:**

> Day 19:   
> Kinktober: Hate sex | Cockwarming | Mirror sex  
> Noncontober: Mindbreak  
> Whumptober: Grief/mourning loved one/survivors guilt

“Ah, ah,  _ ah!”  _ Robin pants, breath coming out in little puffs of air that fogged up the mirror. He used to prefer it better that way anyway, because it let him hide. Now, he’s just too busy getting fucked senseless, too  _ full, _ to be bothered. It’s hard to think of other things, when there’s a thick dick up his ass.

His palms brace against the mirror, fingers bent oddly and out of shape. WIth how often Slade likes to break them, he doubts he’ll ever be able to fire a grapple ever again, but it’s okay. He doesn’t need to. That isn’t how he’s meant to be  _ used _ . His body shudders, whining and pushing back against Slade’s thrusts. Begging.

“Fucking whore,” Slade says icily, a hand landing on the back of his neck and squeezing. “Did I say you could enjoy yourself, you little slut?” 

Robin’s mouth stretches open, wide, trying to breathe in air. 

“You took my  _ son  _ from me,” Slade hisses, yanking his hair back. “You’re not allowed to enjoy yourself, bitch.”

The hold on his hair hurts, pushes his far enough away from the mirror that his breaths don’t fog it anymore, that he has to  _ look.  _ And somehow, even now, he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like watching Slade’s cock slide in and out, blood dripping out, doesn’t like looking at his broken body, watching muscle fade and be instead replaced by soft, smooth skin, only interrupted by whatever scars Slade deigns to give him.

“M-ma-  _ ah!-  _ master p-please!” he gasps out weakly, precariously balanced by only Slade’s hold on him, squirming on top of Slade’s cock.

He used to fight, before. But that’s pointless, now. Who was he fighting for? Everyone was gone - Slade had gotten even. Had completed the contract his son couldn’t - well, almost. 

Slade huffs in disgust. “Useless fucking slut,” he sneers, pulling out and pushing Robin down, uncaring of whether his head hit the floor. He didn’t need Robin’s head, after all. Carelessly, he slams into Robin’s cunt, eliciting a loud moan. “Tch. nothing in that silly little head of yours aside from getting your cunt filled, is there? You’re lucky you have a womb, boy, or you really would be nothing but a useless piece of trash. At least this way you can give me a son for the one you took, hm?”

Robin sobs, cunt bruised and aching, only hurting more as Slade ruthlessly and roughly pumped into him, but he still tries to squirm to get that angle where he could get that mind numbing burst of pleasure. Slade won’t go for it himself, and if Robin wants come he needs to do so before Slade pulls out, so if Robin shifted  _ just  _ so-

“Look at yourself, you whore,” Slade snaps, forcefully tilting his head up again. “ _ Look.” _

So Robin does, despite the way it makes him shiver and his insides uncomfortably twist. At his scraggly unbrushed hair, covered in as much come as his face, stains dripping down it only being washed away by tears pouring out of his eyes. At his body, broken and abused and bruised, broken fingers and swollen ankles that were never properly set, forever banning him from the sky. Bloodstains down his thighs, mouth open in a pant, Slade’s collar on his neck. At his cunt, the slick slide of Slade’s cock in and out of him.

This is him, now. 

Robin is a dead child, long buried beside his - aside the -  _ his  _ -

“Tell me what you are,” Slade demands, voice rough in his ear.

Robin shudders, and just tilts his neck submissively. “Yours,” he says reverently. 

“That’s right,” Slade says savagely, biting down. “ _ Mine.”  _

And he breaks skin and makes Robin bleed and leaves another bruise to add to the constellation already on Robin’s body, but it’s okay. This is where he belongs. Slade hasn’t completed the contract  _ yet. _ Because he still needs Robin’s body. Needs Robin to give him a son, for the one he lost. But Slade  _ will  _ complete the contract one day. Because he’s Deathstroke. 

Then what remains of Robin really can be buried. 

Until then - for the crime of ever thinking he could  _ lead,  _ that he could  _ protect,  _ that he could ever  _ help  _ anyone at all and not simply be a hindrance -

This is simply what Robin  _ deserves. _

**Author's Note:**

> Slade never completes the contract. He keeps Robin forever. As far as he's concerned, the Robin of the Titans is already dead. This Robin is just his <3


End file.
